


Once Upon a Dream

by ammiehawk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-07 17:44:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14676213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ammiehawk/pseuds/ammiehawk
Summary: Soulmates, if lucky enough to find each other, begin meeting each other in their dreams. Hoping to give Harry an edge in the coming war with Voldemort, the Golden Trio brew a potion to induce the dreams.





	1. Prologue

Prologue

 

_Harry Potter, age seventeen, stared around at the darkness surrounding him, unsure of where he was. He turned in place, trying to see anything in the inky blackness. A flash of something green caught his attention and he tried to focus on what it could be._

_“Who are you?” a deep, silky voice asked curiously._

_“Harry,” he frowned, his eyes still trying to adjust. “Who are you?”_

_“We’ll get to that,” the other laughed, as bright green eyes appeared as their owner regarded him. “What are you doing here?”_

_“I don’t even know where ‘here’ is,” he shook his head. “And why won’t you answer my question about who you are?”_

_“Hm,” the other hummed. “I don’t believe you could handle it. Though, I do suggest you leave. I don’t think the Allfather would approve of my having visitors, even in my dreams. Or especially in my dreams. Both, perhaps.”_

_“I didn’t ask to be here,” Harry scoffed slightly. “I don’t even know how I got here. So leaving might be a bit tricky.”_

_“Well,” the voice turned thoughtful, “perhaps, since this is my dream, the easiest solution would be for me to wake up.”_

_“Wait, no,” he protested, that didn’t sound right at all, “this is my dream. It—it has to be.”_

_“They by all means, dear Harry, wake up.”_

Green eyes flew open and Harry sat straight up. He glanced around and realized he was in the bedroom of his best friend, Ronald Weasley. He flopped back on his pillow, throwing his arm across his forehead. It was just a dream.

“You okay over there, mate?” his friend’s voice drifted quietly across the room.

“Yeah, just a dream,” the raven haired teen sighed.

“Anything important?” a candle flared to life beside Ron’s bed.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “Nothing like that. It was just weird. It was completely dark.”

“Was someone else there?” the redhead propped himself up on his elbows.

“Yeah, there was,” he turned his head to look at the other. “But I couldn’t see them. We talked for a minute, but that was it.”

“It’s about damn time,” Ron laughed. “Though I guess it makes sense.”

“What are you on about?”

“Your soulmate, mate,” his friend said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, you didn’t start getting dreams right away like Hermione and I did, so obviously your soulmate has to be younger. That’s what the book said, right? If you don’t start having dreams right away then your soulmate hasn’t come of age yet. So they had to have just turned sixteen, probably even to…”

Harry gave him a confused look as he trailed off. His mouth was hanging open as if his thoughts had frozen him like that. Green eyes narrowed slightly before he sat up and retrieved his glasses.

“What, Ron?” he asked, getting irritated.

“Well, think about it, Harry,” Ron shook his head, “your soulmate just turned sixteen, and well, today is Ginny’s sixteenth birthday.”

“I don’t think it was Ginny,” Harry scowled. “I mean…”

“Oh, come off it,” brown eyes narrowed slightly. “You said yourself you didn’t see her. And mine and Hermione’s started off that way. So who’s to say it couldn’t be Ginny?”

“We’ll see,” he sighed, getting up. “It’s too early to tell. Anyway, I’m going to talk to Mione. Why don’t you go back to sleep? It’s still really early and it’s still break.”

“Yeah, whatever,” the redhead yawned and plopped back on his pillow.

He was asleep again before the other had located some clothes. He dressed quietly and grabbed the still lit candle before making his way out of the room. He padded silently down the stairs to Percy’s old room, where his other best friend, Hermione Granger, was staying. He knocked quietly, hoping the bushy haired witch would have some better advice.

A moment later, the door opened a crack to reveal a rather sleepy looking Hermione. The bespectacled teen rubbed his neck sheepishly as he gave her a hesitant smile.

“Sorry,” he whispered apologetically. “I thought you might be awake.”

“I wasn’t, but its okay,” she held the door open for him to enter. “What’s going on?”

“I really am sorry I woke you up,” he perched nervously on the edge of the bed. “I can go if you’d rather go back to sleep.”

“I’m awake now,” she sat down next to him. “Besides, I just said goodbye to my soulmate, so going back to sleep would be disappointing. Now, what’s so important that it couldn’t wait until later?”

“It’s not important, per se,” he began picking at his finger nails.

“It was enough to bring you down here,” she pointed out patiently. “So talk to me.”

“Right,” she sighed. “Well, I had a dream, and talking to Ron, he thinks it was my soulmate.”

“Harry, that’s…” she paused for a moment and quickly schooled her features. “I think that’s great, but you obviously don’t, so please continue.”

“No, don’t get me wrong, it’s good,” he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s why we made the potion in the first place. I mean, I kinda thought I was defective there for a bit, or didn’t have one. But, no, Ron’s convinced its Ginny, since today’s her birthday, and I’m not so sure, but he didn’t want to hear it.”

“Well,” she smiled wryly, “a lot of people share the same birthday. And while age is the most common factor in a stalled connection, there are other things that can block it. Take mine for example. My soulmate is older than I am, and comes from a place where it’s common for people to meet their soulmates, but our connection didn’t form until I took the potion. Because, if you’ll recall, it was Ron’s idea we even explore this avenue, and before we took it, I scoffed at the idea of soulmates. She explained to me that subconsciously I was blocking the connection by my disbelief. On top of that, outside influences can affect it as well, though that is really uncommon.”

“She?” a dark brow rose curiously. “Your soulmate is female?”

“That’s what you got out of that?” Hermione gaped incredulously.

“No, I caught the rest,” he chuckled. “You’ve just never let it slip before.”

“Please don’t tell Ron,” she pleaded.

“Why would I tell Ron? Oh god,” he suddenly sobered, “I think mine’s a guy.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I know,” he shook his head. “I’m just saying, I think it’s a guy. I mean, I didn’t see him, but his voice sounded masculine, and it was just the feeling I got.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “What else did you get from this meeting?”

“Well, he has green eyes,” Harry pursed his lips. “Another indication that it’s not Ginny, even if I couldn’t figure out it was a guy. He seemed highly amused by the situation, while I was just confused. Which is kinda embarrassing in hindsight. And he said something not liking him having visitors, even in his dreams.”

“Well, that could explain why it’s taken so long,” she grinned widely, “if someone put a block on him so he couldn’t meet you. Though now that the connection is established, nothing and no one can break it, not even the two of you. You are now in the first stage of the bond. Now, the hard part is setting up a schedule for the two of you to meet and start getting to know each other. Don’t get discouraged, though, if you don’t see him for awhile, your sleep schedules could be completely opposite and it might take time to actually figure it out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he couldn’t help but grin as well. “Thanks, Mione. And for the record, I am really sorry I took you away from your girlfriend.”

888888

Loki lay on the small bed that had been oh so graciously provided for him in Odin’s dungeons. One of his legs was bent at the knee, and one arm was thrown casually across his forehead, as his green eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling of his cell. He was currently thinking about the dream he’d just had.

From tales he had heard all his life, the dream had all the signs of being from his Fated. But that shouldn’t be possible. Only Aesir had guaranteed Fated. Midgardians also had them, but they were lucky if they ever found them. As for the other races, it’s not that they didn’t have souls, they just didn’t have that one soul that matched theirs and completed them. So logically, as a Jotun, he should not have one.

When he was younger, he had longed to find his Fated, as all Asgardians did. At his majority, he had been highly disappointed that the call had not started. He thought he’d been defective, especially after Thor had finally gotten his call, a bit late for a prince, but he’d still gotten it. That was until he found out that he was actually Laufey’s son and a Jotun. He had felt lied to and cheated, especially in this regard, because who would ever want him without the bond that came from being his Fated.

That was part of the reason he’d wanted to destroy Jotunheim. He felt that by being born to that race, they had stolen something very precious from him.

But now, he could feel the stirrings of hope blossoming in his chest. Though, if it were true, it would counter everything he’d learned in recent years. Fuck, his circling thoughts were starting to give him a headache.

He wished there was someone he could talk to about all this. He couldn’t ask Odin. The Allfather had made it clear he would never deign to visit his adopted son in his cell. On top of that, he couldn’t trust the man who had lied to him so many times already. And they called him the God of Lies! But that also ruled out Frigga. As Odin’s Fated, she would not go against him in such important matters. That left Thor. His once brother always listened to him, and usually believed him, even when he outright lied to him.

With that thought in mind, he got up in one fluid movement and made his way to the small table. He almost smiled when he saw he had been given writing materials. He picked up the pen and drawing on his magic, began writing on the palm of his hand. It was a method he and Thor had employed many times as children when they had wanted to send secret messages away from the prying eyes of their tutors and parents. He closed his hand into a fist, hoping that this tiny bit of innocent magic would be able to escape the confines of his cell. He did grin when he opened it again and saw the message was no longer there.

He picked up a book and went back to his bed. He may as well be comfortable while he waited, considering he didn’t know when or even if the blond would respond. He was surprised, however, when five minutes later, he heard someone coming down the dungeon steps. There was a hastily whispered conversation with the guard on duty, and then his brother was there, standing outside the magical netting surrounding his prison.

“Thor,” he breathed, trying his best to keep his voice down as he went over to stand before him. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“You begged me to, brother,” the God of Thunder shook his head, for once in his life keeping his voice low. “Now, what was so urgent?”

“Before I tell you,” Loki sank, cross legged, to the floor, as close to the netting as he dared, “could you do me a favor.”

“Loki,” Thor’s voice held a warning.

“Please?” green eyes begged.

“Fine, as long as it is within my power, and does not violate father’s edicts.”

“It’s nothing like that,” Loki assured him. “Could—could you tell me about the first time you connected with your Fated?”

“Loki, I don’t want to hurt you,” the blond sank to his knees so they were now at eye level. “I know how this subject affects you.”

“Please, brother?”

It was the first time since he’d found out about his heritage that he had used the term without his usual sarcasm and hatred. He wasn’t strictly using it as a manipulation either. He truly just wanted his big brother at the moment.

“Very well,” Thor sighed. “The first connection, as you know from the tales, is brief, as it is so new. It was completely dark, I could not even see my own hand. Then a pair of eyes appeared, blue as the sky. We spoke briefly, he and I, I will not tell you of what because that is private. Then it ended. When I awoke, I knew,” he placed a hand over his heart, “here, that I had finally connected with the one that is my Fated.”

“Thor,” green eyes locked with blue, “I met my Fated.”

“But that’s not possible, Loki,” the blond shook his head sadly, not wanting to break his brother’s heart, but he had to stop this now. “As a Jotun, you do not have one.”

“I cannot explain it either,” the trickster ran his hands through his hair agitatedly. “But it was just as you described: black as pitch. Then the eyes appeared, a shade lighter than mine. His name is Harry. I swear on my magic, I am telling you nothing but the truth, brother.”

Thor might be gullible where his younger brother was concerned, but he knew he was speaking the truth. He had tried once, shortly after Thor had gotten the call, to fabricate his Fated. A ruse everyone saw through. But the raw emotion in his eyes, the fear to even hope, was impossible to fake.

“I believe you,” the blond said sincerely. “And I promise, I will take this matter before father as soon as I am able.”

“No,” the raven shook his head. “Don’t involve him.”

“Loki,” he sighed, “even if you are condemned to remain in this cell for all eternity, you have the right, you and your Fated, to meet. Not even father can deny you that.”

“Thank you, brother,” a hesitant smile flitted across the other’s face.

“You are welcome,” Thor pushed to his feet. “And brother, I am happy for you.”


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

Thor sighed heavily as he sat in his room in the palace of Asgard. It had been a little over a week since he had talked with his brother, and he had yet to seek an audience with his father. True, he had promised to do so, but he wasn’t entirely sure if he should believe the trickster. He was just starting to give himself a headache when his four closest friends, the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, entered the room.

“So,” Volstagg said, helping himself to some wine, “what have we on the agenda today?”

“Nothing,” Thor shook his head. “For the time being we have no orders. A fact I prefer at the moment.”

“Something troubling you, my prince?” Fandral frowned.

“Nothing that need concern you,” the god of thunder sighed. “This is my burden and mine alone.”

“Come now, Thor,” his friend insisted, lounging ostentatiously on the couch opposite him, “tell us what is troubling you, and if nothing else we may be able to provide council.”

“You? Give council?” Hogan scoffed, moving the other’s feet off the couch and taking a seat.

“I can give good council,” Fandral pouted, placing his legs across the darker man’s lap.

Thor couldn’t help but smile at his friends’ antics. It had surprised everyone, including the pair in question, when they had discovered that they were actually each other’s Fated. They were an odd coupling to be sure, but they made it work. Though, maybe because of that, his friends could help him with his current predicament.

“Fine,” he ran his hands through his hair. “Perhaps you can provide council. About a week ago, I spoke with Loki.”

“Loki?” Volstagg scowled. “I thought the king forbade anyone from visiting that bothersome creature?”

“King’s edict or not, he is still my brother,” blue eyes narrowed into a glare. “He reached out to me, and I responded. But that is not what troubles me. It is what he told me that has me unsure of how to proceed.”

“What did he tell you?” the lone female of the group asked curiously.

“He believes, that after all these years, he has finally received the call from his Fated,” Thor took a deep breath. “He was very sincere, and I want to believe him, but I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course you can’t,” the redhead scoffed. “He is Jotun, he has no Fated. Besides, he has pulled this trick before, as I’m sure you will recall.”

“I remember that,” Fandral chuckled. “She was a blonde creature, with eyes as blue as sapphires, and skin as soft and pale as cream. She wasn’t tall, but wasn’t too short either, with perfect curves in all the right places. I really wanted to meet this perfect specimen of womanhood. That is, until Loki conjured an illusion of her and tried to pass her off as real.”

“Yes,” the long haired blond shook his head. “I well remember. This time, however, it sounds more like a Fated dream: the darkness, the eyes, and he got a name.”

“Then he has gotten better at lying,” Volstagg shrugged. “None of this changes the fact that he is Jotun, and therefore does not have one.”

“I have to agree with Vols on this one,” Fandral sighed sadly. “Jotun do not have a Fated and no matter how much Loki wants one, he cannot have it. It’s as simple as that.”

“Thor,” Sif frowned as Hogun nodded his agreement, “might I have a word with you, alone?”

The prince looked at the female warrior for a moment before motioning for the others to leave. The Warriors Three left without protest, knowing that if they did, Sif would take great pleasure in kicking their asses. Once the door closed behind them, the brunette took the seat recently vacated by Fandral.

“You want to believe him, don’t you?” she asked quietly.

“I do,” he rubbed his forehead tiredly. “But they are right, Jotun do not have Fated. And Loki is Jotun.”

“Is he though?” a dark brow rose curiously.

“Come again?” he looked up startled. “My father confirmed it to be true after his fall from the Bifrost.”

“I have always been suspect of that,” the brunette sighed. “Now, you know I am no fan of Loki’s, but hear me out. For an Asgardian, Loki is about average in height and build, if not a bit scrawny some would say. But for a Jotun…? Even their children tower over us. He would be considered very small indeed, even for a runt. Therefore, would it not make more sense for him to be only half Jotun? Laufey could have taken a Midgardian, or, dare I say it, an Asgardian to be breeding stock. Though, the more I think on it, an Asgardian makes more sense, given Loki’s abilities. And Laufey capturing a high enough ranking Asgardian could have caused the war.”

“That actually has some merit,” Thor gaped at her slightly. “Though, as Volstagg pointed out, it could still be one of his tricks.”

“It could,” she conceded. “But my advice to you from here is to wait. If he truly met his Fated, he will have another dream soon. And when that happens, take the matter to the Allfather.”

“Thank you, Sif,” he finally smiled. “That eases my mind greatly. Speaking of Fated, what about you? Of our inner circle, only you and Loki had not met yours yet. Now that Loki has claimed to have met his, have you?”

“I have,” a soft smile graced her features. “About nine months ago now.”

“That is wonderful news,” he leaned over and clapped her on the shoulder. “Have you actually found them, or is it just the dreams?”

“Dreams,” she sighed. “I fear I may not meet her for some time yet. She is Midgardian.”

“Midgardian?” a blond brow rose curiously. “That is an interesting notion.”

“I recall you having the same notion years ago,” she scoffed.

“Yes,” he frowned. “Though the more time that passes, the more I doubt it. Midgardians have painfully short life spans compared to ours.”

“This I know,” the brunette sighed sadly. “However, it does not change the facts. I had meant to ask if I could accompany you on your next visit, however, with circumstances what they were, it was not feasible.”

“Granted,” he nodded. “Though, I have a feeling I will be returning soon and I promise I will take you with me.”

“Thank you,” she grinned. “Now, why don’t we join the others and I’ll kick your ass in training.”

888888

Harry sighed as he settled into the compartment he’d found on the Hogwarts Express. Ron and Hermione were up in the Prefects’ carriage for the time being but would be joining him around lunchtime. Hermione had been named Head Girl and Ernie Macmillan was Head Boy. He didn’t begrudge either one of them their positions, he had too much on his plate as it was.

Several people tried to join him, but he managed to fend them off. Ginny came in after awhile, but would not take the hint. She sat down across from him and began babbling about their future together. After about fifteen minutes of her inane yammering, he had enough and finally snapped.

“Ginny, enough!” he shook his head. “You and I are never going to be together. You are not my soulmate. Now, just go.”

“You don’t mean that,” she smiled indulgently. “Ron explained everything to me. Once you and your soulmate both turn sixteen, you start dreaming of each other. And Harry, I haven’t stopped dreaming about you since my birthday.”

Green eyes rolled in annoyance. Instead of continuing to argue with her, he pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed it directly at her.

“If you don’t leave,” he said tiredly, “I will hex you and remove you myself.”

“Fine,” brown eyes filled with tears, “I’ll go. You’ll realize I’m telling the truth eventually.”

She shot out of the compartment. He chose to ignore her sobs as he closed and locked the door. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he knew she wasn’t his soulmate. And that brought him to the reason he truly wanted to be alone.

He had not spoken to his soulmate since their initial meeting. It’s not like he hadn’t tried. He had gone to bed early, and gotten up late. He’d even tried catching naps throughout the summer, but that had proved rather difficult with so many people around all the time. He was starting to think he’d looked too deeply into the whole thing and it had been an actual dream.

With these depressing thoughts filling his head, he stared moodily out the window.

At around lunchtime, Ron and Hermione joined him. He nodded at them by way of greeting, but turned almost immediately back to the window. His best friends shared a concerned look.

“You haven’t had any more dreams, have you, Harry?” Ron asked hesitantly.

Green eyes warily met brown. Was this a trap? Ron hadn’t stopped insisting Ginny was his soulmate since he first found out. And over the rest of break had annoyingly kept leaving Harry alone with her. Though, he finally just shook his head.

“I’m sorry, mate,” the redhead looked down sheepishly. “I guess I should’ve been more understanding. I guess I just got caught up in the idea that you might actually become part of my family. I shouldn’t have been so bullheaded. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Harry said cautiously.

“I mean, it didn’t help that you were sleeping all the time,” Ron continued. “And Ginny said she’d been having dreams every night. That should’ve been a clue in and of itself. I mean, I should know, once I found out my soulmate was Lavender and we started hanging out, the dreams stopped. They didn’t start up again until a week into break, when I really started missing her.”

“I really appreciate that, Ron,” a faint smile crossed the raven’s features. “Though, I’m kinda surprised you’re here and not with Lavender.”

“Oh, I’m going now. I just needed to get this out first,” the redhead grinned. “And to suggest you get some sleep. Don’t try and force the connection, just sleep. You’re looking kinda run down.”

“Gee, thanks,” green eyes rolled slightly. “But maybe you’re right. Sleep does sound good.”

“Great,” he pushed to his feet. “Well, I’m off. Unless you need me to stay. You don’t need me to stay, right?”

“Go find Lavender,” Hermione huffed. “I think Harry and I can handle things.”

“Okay.”

And with that he was out the door in search of his girlfriend.

“I can’t wait to meet Sif,” the bushy haired witch sighed wistfully, as they watched him leave.

“Sif?” a dark brow rose curiously. “Your girlfriend’s name is Sif? Is it short for something?”

“It’s not short for anything,” she glared playfully at him. “Though, I think Ron might be right, you look exhausted. Maybe you should try and get some sleep, without trying to talk to your soulmate. It will happen in its own time.”

“Alright,” he sighed, shifting so he could lie down along the bench. “How long did it take you?” he yawned. “To meet up on a regular basis with Sif?”

“About a week,” she answered, pulling a book out of her trunk. “But that doesn’t mean anything, Harry. Every experience is going to be different. Just give it time.”

“You’re right,” he sighed, finally allowing his eyes to drift closed. “Wake me before we get there.”

She didn’t bother to answer as she could tell he had already drifted off.

888888

Loki paced around the small confines of his cell, his mind going in several directions at once. It had been weeks since he had the dream of his Fated, and he hadn’t been able to sleep since. He had been too anxious and excited. Above all, he was scared. He was terrified that he’d fall asleep and find out that the dream hadn’t been real at all. That the delusions he’d been having since he fell from the Bifrost were continuing.

His steps faltered as he passed the magical mesh surrounding his cell. On the other side, obviously waiting patiently, was Thor. It pained him to admit that he didn’t know how long the other had been standing there.

“Brother,” he turned to face the blond, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Loki,” Thor said patiently, “I came to check on you. You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

“I don’t see how that would be a concern of yours,” the raven sighed, leaning his shoulder against the actual wall where the mesh began.

“I want to believe you, brother,” the god of thunder shook his head. “But I have been advised to wait and see if the dreams continue. But that won’t happen if you don’t sleep.”

“I can’t,” he bowed his head sadly. “I know no one wants to believe me, but ever since I fell, everything has been a haze. I know that I did horrible things and I must pay the price for that. But I feel that I cannot trust anything that goes on in my head, there were so many visions and voices I cannot decipher them. What if this was just another of those? I would not be able to deal with that.”

“I do not know about the other things you speak of,” Thor sighed and took a seat on the floor. “But for what it’s worth, I do believe you about your Fated, as does Lady Sif. But before I take this matter to father, I need more proof. So, please, brother, sleep, not just for yourself but for your Fated as well. If you truly have made the connection, how do you think he feels from your long absence?”

“Will—will you stay?” he asked hesitantly, not sure he could handle this on his own.

“You haven’t asked that of me in ages,” the blond chuckled. “I cannot be in the cell with you, but, I promise you, I will be right here when you awake.”

“Thank you,” the god of mischief smiled faintly as he made his way to his bed.

He lay down and made himself comfortable. He took a deep breath and let his eyes drift closed. Due to his lack of sleep over the past few weeks, it didn’t take long for his breathing to even out and him to succumb to the peaceful oblivion of sleep.

_Loki stared around at the darkness surrounding him. He barely dared to breathe, this was almost too easy. But if this truly was happening, he had to be sure._

_“Harry?” he said quietly._

_“Oh, it’s you,” Harry’s voice sounded surprised as it crossed the darkness. “I was beginning to think our last meeting was actually just a dream.”_

_“My apologies,” Loki sighed. “I feared the same thing. It was a fact that I could not bear, so I have not been sleeping. And I’m not sure why I just told you that.”_

_“Well, isn’t that the nature of these dreams?” Harry asked curiously._

_“Before I have you explain that,” he shook his head, “may I see you?”_

_“I don’t have a problem with that,” the other replied. “But I don’t know how. This is really new to me.”_

_“It is for me as well,” Loki chuckled. “But I think I have an idea of what will work.”_

_“Wait, before you do, I have one condition: I want your name. Because unless you’re Voldemort, I think I can handle it.”_

_“I am not familiar with that name,” Loki sighed. “But very well, my name is Loki.”_

_“Loki,” Harry paused. “It’s kind of an unusual name, but it’s nice. Okay, Loki, do your thing.”_

_The god of mischief smiled to himself, at least his Fated hadn’t rejected him outright. He closed his eyes and tried to bring a place into focus. He didn’t want to have Harry see his cell, that would definitely make him reject him. He didn’t know where the other was, so that was out. Ah, he could use his sitting room from his former quarters._

_He frowned, however, when he opened his eyes again. This was not his room. Yes, it was a sitting room, of sorts, there were several armchairs and couches situated around a large fireplace with a roaring fire. There were also some table and chairs in the other half of the room. But what really clued him in to the fact that it wasn’t his chambers was all the red and gold. That was more Thor’s thing, he tended to favor greens and blacks._

_“Huh, Gryffindor common room,” Harry said from behind him. “You’ve been here before?”_

_“No, never,” he shook his head and turned around. “If you recognize it, you must have helped.”_

_His eyes drank in the sight before him. Harry was young, probably just having entered his adulthood, with short, shaggy black hair. He was shorter than Loki was, but that was alright by him, and a bit on the scrawny side, but that could be a deception due to his baggy clothes. All in all, he liked what he saw, except for the small lightning shaped scar on his brow, whoever had hurt his Fated would die a slow and painful death, and those hideous glasses that obscured his eyes._

_“Come,” he extended his hand, “sit with me.”_

_Harry hesitated for just a moment, but Loki could tell it had more to do with the action itself than actual rejection, before taking the proffered hand. The god of mischief led him over to the couch closest to the fire. He sat down with his back to the armrest, and settled the other in front of him. He knew it was a bit bold and forward, but he couldn’t help himself. Not that he really wanted to, especially when he noticed the blush dusting his Fated’s cheeks._

_“So,” he wrapped his arms around Harry, relishing in the completeness he felt, “you were going to explain what you meant by the nature of the dreams.”_

_“Uh, right,” the teen shifted slightly, but didn’t pull away. “Well, from what we read, me and my friends, the connection with a soulmate starts with a dream connection.”_

_“I know that,” Loki said impatiently. “I have been told the tale of how one meets their Fated since I was a mere boy. Long before the beginning of your few years.”_

_“Okay, old man,” Harry rolled his eyes. “If you’d let me finish… As I was saying, the dreams are a means of getting to know each other on a deeper level, before actually meeting each other in person. It’s a bonding of souls, the purest meeting of two beings. You cannot lie or hide anything in these dreams, just as you cannot lie to or hide anything from yourself.”_

_“I see,” the trickster frowned. “I had not heard that before. Though, I suppose it makes sense, even if it is most annoying.”_

_“You used to telling lies?” he tilted his head back to lock gazes, before flinching slightly. “Shit, I think someone’s trying to wake me up. Look,” he seemed to be struggling against the pull to wakefulness, “I’ll be asleep again in a few hours. Meet me?”_

_“I will be there,” he ran the back of his hand down the other’s cheek. “Till then. Now, go.”_

_Harry disappeared and the room faded to blackness once more._

Loki’s eyes flew open, revealing he was in his cell once more. He swung his legs off the bed and sat up, placing his head in his hands.

“So?” Thor’s voice cut into his thoughts.

“Thor,” he let out a breathy chuckle. “He was there.”

“I am happy for you, brother,” the blond smiled softly, but he still wanted to be sure, so he waited.

“He allowed me to see him,” the younger shook his head. “He is Midgardian.”

“How could you tell?” the god of thunder scowled slightly.

“He wears glasses,” Loki touched the side of his face next to his eyes. “By the way, you haven’t marked anyone in the past twenty years or so, have you?”

“Marked?” a blond brow rose curiously. “No, I cannot say that I have, at least not that I am aware of.”

“Good, I would have had to kill you if you had,” green eyes met blue seriously. “Harry bears a scar on his forehead in the shape of a bolt of lightning.”

“I could see how you would believe that would be mine,” Thor conceded. “Though, I believe I should be going now, if I stay too long I will be missed.”

“Before you do,” the raven held up his hand, “I have one more question. Did you know that it was impossible to lie in these dreams?”

“Aye, I did,” a grin began forming on the elder’s face, that was something he could not fake, the information was never available in the tales they were told growing up. “It was something I found out when my own dreams began. I believe mother intentionally left that out of her stories for your benefit. You were always so excited to meet your Fated, I believe she did not want to damper that by instilling doubt whether you wanted to be truly honest with another.”

“She is wise,” a rueful smile graced the raven’s features. “It would have given me reservations.”

“I will be going now,” Thor nodded. “I will take this matter to father immediately. For now, rest, get some more sleep.”

“I will, soon enough,” Loki shook his head. “And, Thor, thank you.”

“You are welcome, brother.”


End file.
